


Amore mio (my love)

by De_Marvel_Bunny



Series: Tony Stark & Co. [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Avengers Family, BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Italian Tony Stark, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Protective Steve Rogers, Science Bros, Team Bonding, Team Fluff, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2020-10-18 06:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20634866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Marvel_Bunny/pseuds/De_Marvel_Bunny
Summary: Tony Stark, the new foreign exchange student from Italy. As Steve Rogers takes the shy and adorable kid under his wing, he discovers that there might be more about him than meets the eye.OR,Italian!Tony, cue in the cute accent, high school crushes and a terrible father. That's basically the plot. Oh, and there's a dog.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> So this is a new idea I've had for a little while now, and the longer I thought about it, the more I wanted to start writing. So as soon as my writers-block curse lifted, I got to writing this story.
> 
> I'm not familiar with the American school system, so I just made some things up to make it fit the story. The dorms are based on what we have here in my country because my sister is living in this sort of dorm now and I really liked that idea.
> 
> If I put the translations in the notes at the end of the chapter, they will appear at the end of the entire work if you don't read it chapter by chapter, so I'm just going to put them here. I'm not Italian or Spanish or even English, so the translations are all from my good friend Google Translate.
> 
> Sì: yes  
Per favors non uccidermi: please don't kill me  
Sto bene: I'm good  
Un po: a little bit  
Molto bene: very good  
Hola, mi nombre es Peter Parker. ¿Quién eres tú?: Hello, my name is Peter Parker. Who are you? (Spanish)  
Turiste: tourists  
Molto bello: very beautiful  
Francese: French  
Ungherese: Hungarian  
E Italiano: and Italian  
Molto Impressionante: very impressive  
Mio padre: my father  
Ciao, Zia Peggy: hello, Aunt Peggy  
Troppo forte: too loud  
Italia: Italy  
'spaventoso: scary  
scusa: sorry
> 
> And just for clarification: Tony's thought process is, of course, in Italian, but I can't speak Italian and I'm sure most of you can't either, so it's just written down in English.
> 
> Now enough talk- enjoy my story!

Steve plopped down in his seat next to Sam Wilson on the first day of another year in high school. He knew he should feel grateful for the opportunity of education, but _boy_ did school suck. Besides, this was a boarding school. Which meant he wasn't going to be allowed to go back home until next break. Oh, and dorms. That too.

Their first period was homeroom, and Steve didn't really know what he was supposed to do. He settled for doodling in his notebook. As usual, he and his friends were early but soon enough the rest of their class started streaming in.

They were juniors this year, and so that meant they were a very adult class. So when the teacher was late, they started throwing papers at each other. You know, like adults do.

"Hey, punk!"

Steve looked up at the voice of his best friend, only to get hit square in the face by a paper ball. 

"Very mature, Buck." Bucky just shot him a stupid grin before resuming his paper ball-fight with Natasha, another one of their friends.

"Whatcha making?" Sam asked, gesturing to Steve's paper. Steve removed his hand so that his friend could see what he'd made. "Okay, I still don't really know what that is."

It was a sketch of a monkey on a unicycle, holding cymbals.

"It's a monkey," Steve deadpanned. Sam blinked once before turning back to his phone.

"Whatever, man."

Steve sighed. School hadn't even started yet and he was already longing for the next summer vacation.

The door to the classroom finally opened to reveal their teacher, Ms. Hill. Behind her was a young boy with messy brown hair and an oversized, red sweater with 'Venice' on it, clutching the strap of his backpack so hard his knuckles turned white and his eyes trained on the ground. He was short and seemed too young to be a junior.

"Class, calm down, please. Take a seat," Hill ordered. Once everyone was seated again, she continued. "Everyone, this is Antonio, he's a foreign exchange student from Italy. As he is in your homeroom I expect you all to be especially nice to him and help him when he needs it, because he can't speak our language very well yet. Other teachers have been informed, but I need you all to help him adjust." She fixed them all with a stern glare before looking back at the shy kid behind her.

"Can you say hi?"

The boy looked up at being addressed, brown eyes quickly sweeping over the room before giving a soft "hello", his accent heavy. Steve's heart went out to the kid-- high school could be merciless to newbies, especially if they were in any way different than the rest. This boy was young and foreign. Hell was waiting for him.

"Alright, you can sit next to Bucky there, in the back." Ms. Hill pointed to where Bucky sat and gently nudged the boy in that direction. Steve's stomach sank. Bucky was a nice guy, an absolute marshmallow and fiercely loyal to his friends. He just didn't do very well with strangers.

As the boy made his way to his seat, Steve made eye contact with his best friend. _Be nice._ Bucky smirked back.

Oh no.

Antonio carefully took a seat, curled into himself slightly to make himself appear even smaller than he already was. Ms. Hill started talking at the front of the class but Steve was focused on the conversation between his childhood friend and the new kid.

"Antonio's kinda long, doncha think?" Bucky said softly. The small kid looked up at his voice but quickly ducked his head back down. "'s there anythin' shorter?" Bucky asked. When the boy just looked confused, Bucky pointed to himself. "Buchanan, Bucky. Antonio...?"

The boy's eyes lit up in recognition and pointed at himself. "Antonio, Tonio. Or... Tony," he said softly. Bucky grinned as he extended his hand. 

"Nice t' meet ya, Tony."

When Tony shook Bucky's hand with a small smile, Steve felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. With a light feeling, he focused on Ms. Hill, happy his friend had at least shown compassion. 

* * *

After homeroom ended, Steve spotted the new kid standing by the wall, staring at his schedule with a frown, clearly confused. No one seemed to be willing to help him, and when the boy looked around with slightly panicked eyes, it didn't seem like he could ask for help, either. Quickly, Steve approached him.

"Hey," he greeted. The boy looked up at him, then looked around as if Steve might be talking to someone else before realizing Steve'd addressed _him_.

"H-hi," he said softly.

"You need some help with that?" Steve asked gently, trying to let him know he wasn't going to do anything bad. The boy gave him a confused look, so Steve patiently pointed at the paper. "Help?"

The kid bit his lip and nodded.

"Please," he said politely, although with his accent it sounded more like 'plies'.

Steve took a quick look at his schedule and saw he had Spanish, which was just down the hall. Steve quickly contemplated whether he should give directions or just walk him there. Then he remembered how little English the boy actually knew and his mind was made up. He smiled kindly at him and motioned for the kid to follow him.

"I'll show you. Come."

He started walking towards the kid's next class, making sure the boy followed him. Which he did, albeit hesitantly. He looked tense as he fell into step slightly behind him. Steve decided to try and make him more comfortable.

"So, your name is Antonio, right?" Steve asked, making sure to pronounce his words clearly enough for the boy to understand, but not too clear to make it too obvious and make the kid feel stupid.

"Sì," the boy answered. "America say Tony."

"Would it be okay if I called you Tony?" Steve asked, as to make sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

"Um," Tony started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he avoided Steve's gaze. "No... no understand," he murmured.

"I'm Steve," Steve said, pointing to himself. "You Tony?"

Tony nodded, pointing at Steve. "Steve," and then himself. "Tony."

Steve smiled, happy to see some of the tension leave the boy's shoulders.

"It's here." Steve pointed towards the open door to their Spanish class. Tony smiled shyly.

"Thanks,"

"Anytime,"

Steve watched him enter the classroom, watching him hesitantly sit down next to another boy. Then the bell rang and he remembered he should be across campus right now and sprinted off.

* * *

Tony hesitantly walked into the classroom, his schedule still clutched in his hand as he walked towards the only empty seat. The seat next to it was already taken by a boy with brown curls like his, who seemed to be writing things down in his notebook. He sat down as quietly as possible, hoping the other boy wouldn't acknowledge him.

He did.

"Hey," the boy said, his voice way too cheery for the first day of school. And a boarding school, no less.

"Hi," he responded quietly.

"Are you a first-year? Cuz I am. It's kinda weird because I'm in a class with, like sophomores and juniors because the Spanish class was so small in each year they actually had to blend it together-- which, of course, you knew already because you're in this class, too. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I do that sometimes. Aunt May calls it a word-vomit, but I think that sounds gross so I don't call it that. I'm Peter, by the way. What's your name?"

By the time Peter fell silent, Tony was already on the verge of hyperventilation. He had no idea what the boy was talking about-- for all he knew, Peter could have just threatened his life or something.

Peter's cheerful look was replaced by a frown and a hint of worry.

"Are- are you okay?"

"Per favors non uccidermi," Tony rushed out.

"Uh, what?" Peter's expression turned even more confused before realization dawned. "Wait a minute... You're not English, are you? Oh, man. That's awesome! So, like, where are you from? Oh wait, you don't understand me now, do you?"

"Please, no kill me..." Tony peeped out. Peter's eyes turned comically wide.

"No, no, no, no. I uh, I'm not going to kill you," Peter said slowly, carefully pronouncing all the words. "Me no kill you, okay? Me good guy. Sto bene."

Tony seemed to breathe a little easier after that, and Peter grinned widely.

"You're Italian?"

"Italy," Tony confirmed. 

"Cool! My aunt May's Italian, too. She tried to teach me but I kept confusing it with Spanish."

Tony looked lost again, so Peter slowed down.

"I speak Italian _tiny_ bit," he said, using his hands to explain his words. "Un po."

"Molto bene," Tony praised. "I am from Venezia."

"You lived in _Venice_?!" Peter gasped. "Did you have a boat? And a terras? And-"

"Mr. Parker, if you don't mind I would like to start, now." Their Spanish teacher called from the front of the class. Peter's mouth clicked shut and the teacher started class. He explained what Peter had told Tony before; their class was a mix of different years to create one big group instead of several small ones. Then he explained their assignment.

"Alright, I want you all to simply introduce yourself to your neighbor-- in Spanish, of course. Tell your name, where you're from, where you live now, your family, etc. Comenzar."

"Hola," Peter said. "Mi nombre es Peter Parker. ¿Quién eres tú?"

Tony, Peter found out, was _very_ good at Spanish. He told Peter about how he lived in Italy with his mom and some friends, Ana and Edwin Jarvis, and how he would sometimes go out onto one of the canals by their house to see the city at night and watch the stars. But when Peter asked why he left, Tony just shook his head and stopped talking.

At the end of class, they knew a bit more about each other and Peter knew at least a dozen new Spanish words. With a promise to see each other again sometime, they parted ways. Tony managed to find his way to history before the bell rang, and was happy to see Steve again. 

When Steve spotted him, he quickly waved him over to sit next to him.

"Hey," he greeted. "Was Spanish good?"

Tony nodded happily.

"Sì, I meet friend!" He tells him excitedly. "He good at Spanish, I teach him words!"

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"You speak Spanish?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Sì." Tony nodded. "Lot of _turiste _in Venezia. I learn language to speak with them. Molto bello." 

"Do you speak more languages?" Natasha joined the conversation. Tony seemed to turn a bit shy at talking to someone he didn't know, but he nodded anyway.

"Spanish, Francese, Ungherese--"

"What now?" Sam interrupted. "I mean, Spanish and French I understand, but what was that last one?"

Tony seemed to understand their confusion and tried again.

"I think English say Hunger?" He said hesitantly.

"Hungarian?" Natasha supplied with an eyebrow raised, clearly impressed. Tony nodded.

"Sì. E Russian, e Italiano, of course. Un po English."

"Wow, kid," Bucky breathed. "That's really impressive."

"Impressive?" Tony repeated, confused.

"Molto impressionante," Nat, who spoke a couple of languages herself, translated for him. Tony blushed and ducked his head down.

"It's nothing," he said, slightly embarrassed. Languages had never been very hard for him, no one had really praised him for it, except for the Jarvis couple.

"Nothing? Nah, man. That's awesome!" Bucky insisted. Tony blushed even harder, and Steve took pity. 

"It's very impressive, Tony. But how come you don't speak English?" He changed the subject slightly. Tony seemed grateful for the change.

"Mio padre is Americano, and I not like him lots. He no learn Italian, I no learn English." He shrugged. Bucky chuckled.

"He's a lil' savage, this one."

"I like him," Nat stated before turning around and taking a seat as the teacher entered.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. First days are always hectic." She said, her British accent clear. "My name is Peggy Carter but you will address me as Ms. Carter. We've lost enough time as it is, so I'm just going to jump right in. You're juniors this year, so I'm expecting you all to know at least some things about this subject. There are three rows in this classroom, so the left row can start with the first world war, right the second, and the middle row the cold war. I want you all to write down as much information as you can about your subject how it started, what happened, how it ended, important people, etc. You can discuss within your row, not outside it. Treat this seriously, I will look it over at the end of this class. If I see you've not taken it seriously you may try again in detention. Is that clear?"

There were a couple of murmurs of confirmation.

"Good. You may begin."

As people quickly pulled out their notebooks to get started, Ms. Carter approached Tony's desk.

"Hello, Tonio," she smiled kindly. Tony happily smiled back.

"Ciao, Zia Peggy," Tony greeted back. Peggy tutted and held up her hand.

"English, please," she ordered. Tony chuckled softly as he tried again.

"Hello, Aunt Peggy," he spoke with his heavy accent. Peggy nodded.

"See? Now I can understand." Her face softened. "How is it going so far, Tonio?" Tony shrugged.

"It is good, I think. I meet nice people," he told her. Peggy smiled.

"I see you've met Steve," she nodded towards her star pupil, who looked up from his frantic writing about the second world war to smile at her.

"Hello, Ms. Carter," he greeted her politely. "You know Tony?" He asked curiously. Peggy chuckled.

"He's my unofficial nephew. His father and I were friends for a long time," she explained. "Steve, do you mind helping Tonio out with this? He knows of the second world war, but, as you may have noticed, he is not very good at English yet."

Steve nodded.

"Of course, Ms. Carter," he promised. Peggy quickly explained the assignment in somewhat accented Italian to Tony, who nodded and scooted closer to Steve to see what he had so far. Peggy watched Steve ask questions, Tony answering excitedly. Steve made sure to praise him for it every time he got something right before scribbling it down.

Yes, it seemed her nephew was in good hands.

* * *

When lunch rolled around, Steve spotted Tony looking confused at the cafeteria. He gave a quick excuse to his friends and hurried over to the small boy before he lost him out of sight. 

"Hey, there," the made his presence known. Tony softly greeted him back, clearly happy to see someone he knew. "You don't know this?" Steve asked, gesturing towards the cafeteria. Tony shook his head, his curls bouncing on his forehead. 

"I learn at home," he spoke softly, clearly overwhelmed by the large commotion that was the cafeteria. Which made sense if he was homeschooled.

"Do you have food with you?"

Tony nodded, opening his bag and pulling out a bag of moldy sandwiches. Steve scrunched up his nose.

"Do you have money to buy anything else?"

"No. No money."

Steve took another look at the lump of sandwich in Tony's hand before shaking his head. He took the bag from the boy's hand and threw it in the trash. Before Tony even knew what was going on, Steve was gently steering him towards the cafeteria.

"I'm buying you lunch. How do you feel about grilled cheese?"

"Um, what?" Tony asked, not really understanding what was going on.

"Oh, you'll love it," Steve assured him even though he wasn't sure Tony understood.

As they went further into the cafeteria, Tony got more and more tense under the hand Steve held on his back. Kids were yelling and running around and Tony's gaze kept shooting towards the loudest noise. At a particularly loud yell, Tony flinched so hard he would've fallen on the ground if Steve hadn't caught him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve asked concerned. Tony shook his head.

"No. No, no. No, too loud. Troppo forte. Too loud."

Steve quickly turned around and led the shaking boy out of the cafeteria and into the deserted halls. 

"Hey, are you okay, Tony?" Steve asked again as Tony's frantic gaze kept scanning their surroundings. He looked... Scared.

"Don't like noise, Steve. Don't like," Tony whispered, one hand desperately clinging onto Steve's shirt.

"Hey, hey, that's okay, Tony. Let's just go outside, yeah? It's still warm out and it's calmer there."

Tony didn't seem to fully understand but he didn't protest when Steve put a protective arm around his shoulders and gently guided him towards the doors. Steve kept softly talking to him as it seemed to calm the boy down, even if he didn't understand.

They entered the yard to see a blue sky and small groups at different tables, some birds chirping in the trees and some squirrels looking for food in the grass. Steve gently steered Tony towards his friend group's standard table in the grass. He could already see Clint, Thor, and Loki sitting at the table, playing a game Clint was clearly losing at.

"Hey guys," Steve greeted as he walked up to them, Tony pressed into his side to hide.

"Hello, friend Rogers!" Thor boomed happily. Tony flinched slightly at the sound but didn't seem too scared. "Who is the little friend you have brought with?"

See, the thing about Thor was that no one could really understand him. Sure, he spoke their language and everything, but he seemed constantly confused by their ways doing and seemed to prefer his own, loud manners. Thor was from Norway, a big guy with a loud voice and accent. Rumour had it he was a Viking and honestly, Steve could see where they were coming from. Steve was sure he would've been bullied for it if he wasn't literally made out of muscles.

His brother, Loki, was an even bigger mystery. He had an accent like his brother, but he was quiet, slim and basically the exact opposite of his sibling. Where Thor was big and loud, Loki was slim and quiet. And where Thor was happy and outgoing, Loki seemed mostly irritated and secretive. The only thing besides the accent that they had in common was the fact that Steve knew they were both good people, even if Loki didn't want anyone else to see.

"Guys, this is Tony," Steve said. "Tony, these are my friends. The loud one is Thor, the guy next to him is Loki, and the one losing is Clint."

"Ey man, I'm not losing. I'm just... Saving my cards." The dirty blond, Clint, apparently, defended himself.

"I'm out," Loki said suddenly, laying his last card on the table and showing his empty hands with a smirk.

"Aye, me too!" Thor boomed happily, laying his last card on the pile. Clint spluttered, looking from the pile to his full hands.

"Wa- how?! This is the first time you guys played this game!" He screeched. "How can you win from me already?!"

"Maybe because you -as you Americans put it- _suck,_" Loki explained with a straight face. Tony giggled at Clint's affronted look before ducking back into Steve's side when that turned the attention to him.

Steve chuckled as he tried to get Tony to let go of him.

"Come on, they're not gonna do anything," Steve assured.

"'tis true, my friend." Thor boomed, although he boomed it softer this time. "Do you wish to join us in our game?"

Tony looked up at Steve, clearly waiting for an explanation as to what Thor had just said.

"He wants you to play a game with them," Steve explained patiently. Tony bit his lip, looking at the group of friends and back to Steve.

"You will play too?" He asked softly. Steve nodded. "Okay, then I will play game," he said, louder this time so the others could hear him too.

"Wow, dude," Clint exclaimed suddenly. "That's a cool accent! Where are you from?"

"I am from Italia," Tony explained. Clint's eyes widened.

"Another foreign exchange student, that's so cool! Nat, Thor, and Loki were, too. Have you lived here long? Do you even speak English? Can you understand what I'm saying at all right now?"

"Clint, please calm down," Steve interrupted his string of questions. "Sit down, Tony. We'll explain the game."

Tony sat down in between Thor and Steve while Clint divided the cards. Nat showed up too, so Clint had to do it again. Then bucky and Sam came in, and Clint decided to wait until they were all here. But no one else was coming, so Clint had to _"hurry your ass up, we want to get started"_, as Bucky so elegantly put it.

Meanwhile, Steve was explaining the game, Crazy Eights, to Tony who nodded along to his words to indicate he understood.

"Let's just play and you can ask questions if you don't understand, okay?"

Tony nodded and the game began. Steve helped him out in the beginning, but soon enough Tony got the hang of it on his own and he was enjoying the game. Sam, who noticed the lack of food, offered him some of his own. Which, of course, started off a train reaction and soon Tony had more food than he could stomach. He looked wide-eyed at Steve for advice, who just chuckled and offered to share, which Tony was happy to do.

"Hey, you cheated, you asshat!" Clint scolded Bucky as he was forced to wait a turn. 

"Nah, you're jus' terrible at this game," Bucky shrugged, nodding towards Clint's full hands and showing off his three remaining cards. Clint growled. He was clearly going to say something back when Tony interrupted, spreading his arms out over the table.

"Please, no fight," he said, and Clint couldn't help but laugh.

"You're cute, kid."

Tony, who had no idea what that meant, just smiled at having been able to make the friends laugh. They continued the game, all silently munching on their lunch and bickering back and forth good-naturedly. Tony let out a sad little noise when the bell rang, signaling the end of their lunch break. Steve laughed at the boy's sad look.

"It's okay, Tony. We'll see each other soon. What do you have now?"

Tony pulled his rumpled schedule out of his bag, showing it to Steve.

"Oh, you have science! There's a really nice kid in your class, Bruce. He will gladly help you if you ask."

"You not have science?" Tony asked sadly. Steve chuckled.

"No, I don't. I'm not smart enough for that." He winked. "But don't worry. This is the first day, so this will be your last period. After that, everyone is going to their dorms and has the opportunity to make themselves at home there. Do you know where your dorm is?"

Tony shook his head.

"What is dorm?" Tony asked.

"A dorm is where you live when you're not in school. You have your own room, and you share your kitchen and living room with four other kids in your dorm. Don't worry, everyone has switched dorms since last year so you're not the only one who has to adjust."

"But I no have dorm yet," Tony said.

"I think principal Fury will get you one. Now let's go to class, okay? We don't want to be late."

Tony nodded and reluctantly left Steve's side to find his class. Steve watched him disappear in the crowd with a fond smile before heading off to his own class.

* * *

Tony waited in front of the door to his science class to look inside. It was a big classroom with all kinds of stuff Tony couldn't wait to get his hands on, but he also saw only one empty seat left.

_Come on, Antonio_, he told himself. _It worked out last time, didn't it?_

He took a deep breath before walking in and sitting down next to the girl sitting alone. She didn't look up, for which he was grateful. He was just giving himself a mental pep talk (which wasn't going so swell) when a tap on his shoulder had him turn around.

"Hey," a boy, seemingly a few years older than him, said. "I saw you with Steve and Nat earlier today. You're Tony, right?"

Tony nodded.

"I'm Bruce," the boy said, smiling kindly. Tony's eyes widened. This was the boy Steve had been talking about!

"Hi," Tony said softly, waving at him. Bruce chuckled and waved back.

"Mind if I sit next to you?" He gestured towards the girl, who still hadn't looked up. Tony frowned.

"Your mind? What is wrong with your mind?" He asked, not understanding what the other boy was talking about. Bruce laughed.

"Right, I forgot you're not English. I meant, can I sit next to you?" He tried again, slower this time. Tony looked at the occupied seat next to him and back to Bruce.

"Um... it taken," he stated. Bruce winked behind his glasses.

"Not for long. Hey, Betty," Bruce called. The girl finally looked up. When she saw Bruce, she quickly straightened her hair and clothes.

"Yes, Bruce?" She asked sweetly.

"Mind if we switch places? I need to help him out," he explained, pointing towards Tony who was following about half of the conversation.

"Sure, Bruce," she said, gathering her stuff and switching places with him, making sure to let their shoulders brush as they passed. Bruce looked slightly uncomfortable when he sat down. He leaned towards Tony as he whispered in his ear.

"She likes me," he said softly, shuddering slightly.

"I like Steve," Tony deadpanned. Bruce froze.

"You- uh," he cleared his throat. "You do?" Tony nodded enthusiastically.

"Sì!" He said happily. "E Peter, e Nat, e Bucky..." he summed up. Bruce let out a breathy laugh when he realized the misunderstanding. "... e Thor... But he a bit loud. But he nice to me. E Sam give me food!"

Bruce couldn't help but laugh at the kid's excitement.

"You like a lot of people, don't you?" He smiled. Tony nodded vigorously. 

"E Loki is a un po 'spaventoso- um, scaredy. But he nice, too."

"I bet he is," Bruce chuckling at the kid's antics and broken English. "Are they all your friends?"

"I hope!" Tony nodded, biting his bottom lip and smiling shyly. "So... you good at science?"

"It's a big interest of mine," Bruce said, straightening his glasses. Tony raised an eyebrow.

"So... that a sì?" He asked. Bruce laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, kid. That's a sì."

"Good," Tony beamed. "I like too. It really fun. But I can no do it in Italy, mia madre no like it. Say I will blow up house." He smiled cheekily.

"Your mom's not a big fan?" Bruce chuckled. Although an innocent question, it didn't have the desired effect as the smile slowly faded from the young boy's lips. 

"No," was all he said. Bruce was just wondering if he'd said something wrong when the teacher demanded their attention. Soon enough the boy was over it and back to his cheeky old self, mixing Italian with English as he talked about science. By the time they were halfway through the period, Bruce too had forgotten all about it as he allowed himself to be frazzled by the young boy's genius. He was almost sad when class ended and they were instructed to get their dorms ready and meet their housemates.

"Um, Bruce?" Bruce heard Tony call his name while he was packing up his stuff. He turned around to see Tony already done and fiddling with his shirt, suddenly looking very shy.

"Yes, Tony?" Bruce asked gently.

"Um, I not have... I not have dorm," Tony said softly. Bruce smiled kindly.

"No worries, I'll walk you to the principal's office, okay? We can see where you have to go."

Tony smiled and muttered a soft "thanks" before shouldering his backpack and following Bruce out the door. They walked together through the hallways towards principal Fury's office, chatting softly about science. When Bruce stopped outside of the office, Tony seemed to snap out of a daze, as if he forgot they were walking somewhere.

"Oh," he said intelligently, blinking up at the door and the shiny letters saying 'Principal Fury'. Bruce knocked on the door, and Tony was surprised to see Ms. Hill when it opened. She looked at Bruce in silent question, who redirected her gaze to a fidgeting Tony.

"Oh, Antonio. You're here for your dorm, yes?" Tony nodded. "Come in, we'll get you a key. Bruce, you can go to your own dorm, we'll make sure Antonio gets there." Bruce nodded, waved Tony goodbye and left. Tony hesitantly walked into the office, looking around the big room with wide eyes. There were certificates and prizes on the wall and a couple of photos of past principals, Tony assumed. There were one desk and multiple doors leading elsewhere. The name board on the desk just said 'Principal N. Fury'. Behind it was a dark-skinned man with, and I kid you not, an _eyepatch_. Tony would've laughed if he wasn't so dang terrified. He was half expecting the man to stand up and show off his wooden leg with a parrot on his shoulder and a pirate hat on his head.

"You must be Antonio Stark," the pirate said.

"Carbonell," Tony corrected automatically. Once he realized what he'd said he looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"Really?" The principal looked back down at his papers. "Cuz I do believe it says 'Stark' here, unless my eye is failing me."

"Scusa, I no mean to say that," Tony apologized, still frantically avoiding eye contact. He heard principal Fury sigh and put down his papers.

"Look, kid," he started. "I know that this is a lot to take in right now, so much is happening at once. It's okay if you're not used to it all immediately."

"Immeditly?" Tony asked, frowning at the unfamiliar word. Fury shook his head.

"It don't matter now, your English will improve along the way. Hill, would you be so kind as to fetch Coulson to take the kid to his dorm?"

Hill nodded and disappeared into one of the other rooms. Fury got up with a grunt, moving one of the paintings of someone Tony didn't recognize, revealing a large safe. He punched in a code and opened the safe to reveal rows of keyholders, most of which were empty. He took out one set of keys, closed the door and covered it back up with the painting. Noticing Tony's stare, he explained.

"Safety measures. I don't want some creeps suddenly chillin' in a kid's livin' room."

Tony didn't really know what he meant but nodded anyway, hoping that was good enough. Fury held out the key for him to take and Tony hesitated. Fury raised an eyebrow.

"C'mon kid, I ain't got all day." Tony was torn between taking the key and telling the truth (and running away, he was considering that option too) when a loud sound had Fury groan in frustration and put the key down. "Be right back," he muttered before disappearing through a door. Tony let out a breath and snatched the key off the desk, happy to have escaped that dilemma. Just then the door opened revealing a man Tony hadn't seen before. He smiled kindly and held out his hand.

"Hello, Tonio. My name is Phil Coulson, I'm going to show you your dorm."

Tony shook his hand with a soft "hi".

"Follow me," Coulson said before leaving the principal's office, Tony hurrying after him. They were silent on the way there. Tony was a bit confused but also too shy to ask questions. Soon they exited the large school building and were walking across the open space Tony had spent lunch with Steve and the others. Once they reached the other side, Tony saw staircases leading towards what looked a lot like apartment doors. Some students were milling about on the stairs or crossing over to each other's rooms. Coulson led Tony up two staircases and two doors down, almost at the end of the hall, before they came to a halt in front of door 203. A quick look told Tony this hall started at 204 and ended at 200. He figured that if he crossed the bridge-like connection between this hall and the next, it would continue counting up.

"This one's yours, kid," Coulson told him. "You got your keys?"

Tony pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"Don't lose those. Good luck." And with that, Coulson left and Tony was left alone in the hall. With slightly shaking hands he put the keys in the lock and twisted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepotente: Bully
> 
> I think that's quite self-explanatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the kindness I received on the first chapter! It really means a lot to me.
> 
> This chapter is a little heavier, so trigger warning for mentions of abuse...

Tony hesitantly pushed the door open to reveal a living area, small enough to be cozy but spacious enough to fit all occupants and some friends. He could see a hallway leading to a kitchen and five doors, four of which were opened. Tony could hear people talking and laughing. He swallowed hard, anxiety weighing heavily in his stomach. He knew not everyone was going to be as kind as the people he'd met earlier today, especially since he was technically too young to be a junior.

Hesitantly, he walked further into the room, closing the door softly behind him. Standing in the middle of the living room, he looked around to see a comfortable-looking couch, a loveseat, and a tv, a small table in the middle. He was just wondering why the school would grant the kids such luxury when a voice from behind him called his name.

"Tony?"

Tony turned around and felt like he was going to cry. Right there, pillow in his hand and with a shocked look on his face was none other than Steve.

"Steve," Tony croaked out, happiness flooding his system. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd attacked Steve in a hug, gripping him tightly. Once he realized what he was doing, he quickly stepped back, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. "Scuse," he apologized. Steve laughed and pulled him back in.

"It's okay, Tony. I'm just happy you're here," he soothed.

"Me too," Tony mumbled.

"'s that the lil' squirt?" Another familiar voice called. Tony reluctantly let go of Steve to see Bucky smirking at him. He gave a shy wave, relieved to see him too.

"Who more here?" He asked Steve.

"Thor and Loki. You met them earlier, remember?" Tony nodded. He let out a breath. He knew everyone here, which was good. But mostly he was just happy to be with Steve. Suddenly he realized something.

"I have no bag," he told Steve, a look of panic on his face. He had been told to give his bags away at the beginning of the day.

"Your bags are in your room, that's where ours were, too. Your room is the second door down the hall." He pointed at the only closed door. "My room is right across from yours," he said, pointing to his own door.

Tony quietly opened the door to his own room, peeking inside. The room was like the living room- cozy but spacious. It was bare with just the basic necessities like a bed, sink, and a closet to hang his clothes. His bags were in the middle of the room.

"Is that all you have?" Steve asked as he peeked in as well. Tony nodded, walking into his room and beginning to unpack. There were only a few bags, one with a few clothes, one with a bedspread and a pillow, and a small one with his personal belongings. He took out a picture frame of him with a man and a woman, smiling happily. Tony smiled at it before putting it on the small bedside table. He took out a couple more; one of him with Peggy Carter, one of his mother sitting behind a piano and giving a rare, genuine smile. Tony carefully and delicately placed them where he wanted them, smiling softly at his work. Steve watched him with a soft smile and quietly exited the room to leave the boy to it.

* * *

After everyone had finished unpacking they settled in the living room. Natasha, Bruce, Sam, and Clint had come over as well and Thor had managed to drag Loki from his room, and they played another round of Crazy Eights (mostly because Tony really liked it and no one could say no to him) before settling in front of the tv for a Disney movie (Tony hadn't seen the Lion King before and that just wouldn't do). Bruce eventually got up to make dinner for all of them and soon the smell of lasagna filled the shared space. Tony immediately perked up at the smell.

"Mio madre make lasagna too," he smiled happily.

"I thought so," Bruce winked. "Would you like to help me set the table?"

Tony nodded and jumped up from his space between Steve and Bucky to help Bruce prepare for dinner. He seemed happy to help, but when Bruce held out a plate for him to take, he froze. 

"Tony?" Bruce asked, a stack of plates still held out for Tony to take. Tony shook his head frantically. "What's wrong?" Bruce grew steadily more concerned as Tony didn't move. Their conversation could be heard from the living room, where a frown was growing on Steve's face.

"Bruce, Tony?" He called. "Is everything okay?"

"No take," Tony whispered, nodding at the plates.

"No take?" Bruce repeated, confused.

"Please, put down," the small brunet said softly. Bruce put the plates on the counter. Immediately, Tony walked over and took the plates, walking back to the table to set them down. Bruce frowned at the sight in confusion.

"Bruce?" Steve asked, poking his head around the corner. "Is everything okay here?"

Bruce looked over to where Tony was still setting down the plates, softly humming to himself and looking completely fine.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine," he assured Steve, who seemed satisfied as he walked back to the living room to call the others for dinner. But even though Tony seemed fine, there was a sense of 'wrong' that kept nagging at Bruce. He decided that pressuring Tony into talking wasn't the way to go about the problem, but he hoped Tony would at least talk to him about it.

"Hey, Tony," Bruce called. the teen looked up at his voice, cocking his head in silent question. "You know that if anything's bothering you, you can talk to us, right? To me, to Steve, or to someone else." Tony bit his lip and nodded.

"Okay," he smiled. He didn't say anything else, but Bruce decided that was just a matter of time. Problem was that just patience wasn't Bruce's strongest suit.

"You know," he started carefully as Tony laid out the cutlery. "I have anger management issues." Tony looked up, brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's that?" He asked.

"It means I get angry sometimes, and I do things I normally wouldn't do. I yell sometimes or break things."

"Oh," Tony said, looking down in thought. There was nothing judgmental in his tone, just thoughtfulness.

"I talked to someone about it," Bruce continued. "And they helped me to keep it under control."

"That's good!" Tony smiled. Bruce chuckled.

"Yeah, it is. Point is, if you talk to someone about what's bothering you, they can help you with it." He said carefully, hoping his message would come across.

"But no one listen to me," Tony said softly. "Mama is- was sad, and I no bother her. Jarvis e Ana have other thing to do. Padre say I overact," he said sadly.

"He says you overreact?" Bruce clarified. Tony nodded. "And you can't talk to anyone else?"

"There no is no one else."

"Well, you have us now," Bruce offered. "I'm sure you can talk to some of us. I would listen, and I'm sure Steve would, too."

"Thanks," Tony said with a small smile. Bruce smiled back, sincerely hoping Tony would take his advice.

* * *

As the friends grow closer over the next few weeks, they find out more about Tony and Tony about them. They quickly found out he was basically a genius, loved building things, was prone to get in trouble, shy but brave, and fiercely loyal to those he let close to him. He was also intent on helping out his friends in any way that he could, so he'd offered to help Steve with Maths. Steve, wanting to do something in return, had offered to teach him English. He was amazed at how well Tony was picking it up. Even though he still made mistakes in his grammar, his vocabulary had expanded immensely and he could easily follow conversations.

Tony was walking through the halls towards history, a happy feeling causing for a happy skip in his step. He'd just had Spanish with Peter, who he'd grown very close to in the past few weeks, and his next class was with his friends. Most importantly, with _Steve_. Tony didn't know why, but thinking of Steve made him happy- happier than thinking of his other friends. He'd felt guilty at first for liking Steve more than the others but then realized that was just because Steve was his _best_ friend. So of course, it made him happy. Once satisfied with that deduction, he just let himself succumb to the happy feeling in his stomach. He wondered if Steve felt the same, or if Bucky was his _bestest_ best friend. Maybe Steve felt that happy feeling for Bucky--

Tony's thoughts were cut short when his shoulder made harsh contact with the wall. He blinked dazedly, trying to figure out what happened. He heard laughing on his left and looked over to see a few boys walking towards him, grinning evilly. Tony's heart sank at the looks in their eyes. He knew that look. He'd grown used to it in the past few months while living with his father. He curled into himself

"Well, well, well." One of the boys spoke. "Look who it is. It's the Italian freak." The boys behind him laughed, but Tony didn't get the joke. He didn't dare ask, knowing better than to talk back. But even though he listened to his survival instincts and kept his eyes downcast, he still received a punch in the face, hard enough to knock him down. His world spun and he groaned softly, quickly getting back up because he knew to lie down was a fatal position.

"Ah, got some fire in you, eh?" The tall, skinny boy at the front spoke again, irritation sparking in his eyes. He made a movement with his hand that Tony's spinning vision couldn't identify, and before he knew it his feet were off the ground.

"Hey, please," he panted, the hand pressing painfully on his chest. "Please, stop," he begged. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, so he didn't know how to make it right, either.

"Hey!" A familiar voice yelled from further down the hall. "Let him go, Schmitt!"

Tony turned his head to see a fuming Steve outside the history classroom. The bully, Schmitt, saw him too and huffed annoyedly.

"As you wish," he said in a German accent, shrugging easily before throwing Tony away like a broken ragdoll. Tony landed painfully on the ground, a searing pain shooting up his wrist. He let out a cry he couldn't contain, cradling the broken limb close to his chest, both of which were throbbing with pain. He heard Steve yelling his name as he rushed over, pushing past the bullies who were laughing at the pathetic sight Tony was sure he was making.

"Hey, Tony," Steve nudged him gently. "Hey, can you look at me?"

Tony painfully turned on his back before allowing Steve to pull him into a sitting position, still cradling his broken wrist close to his aching chest. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Steve with tear-filled eyes. 

"Oh, Tony," Steve soothed, his heart clenching at the sight of his friend in pain. It was enough to break the dam as the tears silently rolled down Tony's face.

"Fa male," he sobbed softly. "It hurts."

Steve softly pulled Tony into his chest, careful not to jostle his clearly broken wrist, soothing him with soft words. He heard heels clicking behind him and the bullies muttering an 'oh shit' as Peggy Carter marched into the hallway.

"Stop right there," she stopped the boys trying to run away. "You three, I will see you in the principal's office in fifteen minutes. Steve, help me get Tonio to the infirmary, please."

Steve nodded and started coaxing Tony into standing up, who complied with a small whine of pain. While the three bullies stomped off with poisonous glares sent Tony's way, Peggy fixed her softened gaze upon her nephew who was desperately trying to hold in his sobs of shock and pain.

"Does your chest hurt?" She asked him softly. She knew his wrist was hurting, it was clearly broken so she didn't ask. But she knew his chest was sensitive. Tony nodded softly, knowing he couldn't lie to her. Her look was one of pure concern as she took in his hunched posture, leaning as far into Steve as he could. "Let's get him to the nurse," she said. Steve nodded and started steering Tony towards the school's infirmary.

Peggy knocked on the door, which was quickly opened, showing a small, middle-aged man with a kind smile.

"Guten Tag," he smiled kindly. That's when his gaze fell on the young, tear-stricken face and a broken arm and he quickly waved them inside. "Hello, young man," he said with a German accent that had Tony curling in on himself, the accent reminding him of Schmitt. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Tony," Tony whispered.

"I am dr. Erskine," the German man told him kindly. "Am I allowed to look at your arm, Tony?" Tony nodded and held out his left arm, allowing the doctor to gently take it in his hands. "Now, how has this happened?" He asked. Tony looked away, unwilling to answer the question.

"I'm afraid he was the victim of another hallway assault," Peggy answered for him and the doctor nodded.

"I see," was all he said, the lack of judgment in his voice momentarily shocking Tony, who was deeply disappointed in himself for not only letting himself be pushed around but also _crying_ about it. He'd had far worse than a broken arm, yet he hadn't been able to keep in his tears.

"I'm afraid there isn't much I can do here. It's a clean break, so all that needs to be done is the cast. I'm afraid I am unable to do that with the limited resources I have at my disposal here. Is there any way he can let that be done at the near hospital?" 

"I can drive him," Steve offered immediately. He still felt guilty for not noticing Tony's absence earlier. Tony was always so on time for their shared classes, he should've checked it out sooner. He wanted to do what he could to help.

"Very well. I have some bullies to talk to, make sure Fury doesn't go easy on them," Peggy agreed. Steve winced at the last part, knowing Fury _never_ went easy on bullies, and neither did Peggy. Then again, they deserved it. Steve _hated_ bullies, sympathy was hard to gather.

"Come on, Tony. I'll drive you." Tony jumped off the bed, happy to go with Steve, even if it was to a hospital, which was definitely not a fun place for Tony.

"Steve," Peggy called him back. "Make sure to let them check out his chest, too. I'm concerned," she instructed, soft enough that Tony couldn't hear. Steve nodded solemnly before walking out with Tony.

"You worry too much," dr. Erskine smiled softly. "From what I can tell and from what you've told me, Miss. Carter, he's a strong boy. Give him some credit."

"I know, you're right," Peggy sighed. "But he's been through so much as it is, I don't want him to feel unsafe even in school."

Erskine just hummed knowingly. They stayed in comfortable silence for a while before Peggy clapped in her hands.

"Right, time to bring some bullies to justice."

With that, she marched out.

* * *

The car ride to the hospital was spent in a slightly pressing silence neither Steve nor Tony knew how to break. Luckily the ride wasn't long, and soon enough they were standing in front of the local hospital and Tony was even paler than before.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asked the younger teen gently. Tony shook his head.

"I'm fine. It is just... hospitals. Don't like them," he said shortly, accent thick with nerves.

Steve hummed sympathetically, not knowing what else to do besides pulling his friend close and walking with him through the doors and to the front desk.

"Hello," the woman behind the desk smiled kindly. "What can I do for you?"

Tony held his limp left hand up for her to see, supporting it with his right hand.

"Broke," he stated simply.

"He's already been checked out by our school's doctor, it's a clean break and just needs a cast," Steve said in further explanation. The woman nodded and typed something in her computer.

"Name?" She asked Tony.

"Antonio Edward Ca- um, Stark," he said hesitantly, almost giving the wrong name. He wasn't a Carbonell anymore, he had to remind himself. He was a Stark now.

The woman frowned slightly at the slip-up but didn't comment.

"Alright, you can sit down in the waiting room until the doctor's ready for you," she smiled. Steve nodded gratefully and steered his friend towards the nearest chair. Tony immediately leaned into Steve's side, resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. Steve rubbed his tense arm in sympathy.

Tony stayed silent, even when the doctor came in to take them he didn't talk. He obediently sat down on the bed, staring out the window.

"His chest needs to be checked out, too," he told the doctor. "His... Aunt told me he has pains there."

The doctor nodded and smiled kindly before going back to Tony. But no matter what he said or did, no matter how many jokes he made, Tony didn't loosen up and stayed as close to Steve as he could. Once the cast was on (red, Steve said it was a good color on him), the doctor instructed Tony to take off his sweater so he could take a look at his chest. That's where things went wrong.

"No," Tony stated. The doctor looked confused.

"No?" He repeated. Tony shook his head.

"No. Won't do that."

"Why not, Tony?" Steve asked softly. "The doctor just wants to help--"

"No!" Tony said, louder this time. Steve took a physical step back. He'd never seen the usually so cheery boy get angry.

"Tony, what's wrong?"

Tony looked down at his fidgeting hands and didn't answer.

"Tony, be honest with me. Does it hurt?" Steve asked gently. Tony bit his lip, clearly hesitating before nodding softly. "The doctor might be able to help with the pain if you show him what's wrong."

Tony looked between him and the unfamiliar doctor with wide eyes, clearly contemplating his options.

"Okay. But no get angry," he said softly. Steve was confused as to what he meant but was mostly happy that Tony was willing to cooperate.

"Okay Tony, we won't get angry. Right, doctor?" Steve gave the doctor a stern look, or as stern as an 18-year-old could manage against a grown man, but the doctor complied.

"Right," he confirmed. Tony was still hesitant.

"Promise?" He pressed.

"Promise," Steve assured him. Tony nodded, deeming it good enough before moving to clumsily remove his sweater. Once he'd pulled it over his head, Steve froze.

There were bruises all over Tony's slim torso and arms. His ribs were painfully prominent underneath the olive skin and lean muscles. Of course, Tony's black eye was courtesy of the battle ram that was Schmitt's fist, but none of these seemed to be any of their work. They looked older with a disgusting shade of purple and yellow.

"You say you won't get mad," Tony's small voice shook Steve from his staring and he noticed that he indeed had been getting angry the longer he looked at his friend. He took a breath to calm himself before looking his friend in the eye.

"Tony, how did this happen?" He asked as gently as he could, trying not to show how angry he was feeling inside. Tony just shook his head and didn't elaborate. Steve was going to say more when the doctor took him aside.

"I take it these didn't happen in a fight such as the one that caused the broken wrist?" He asked, though it wasn't exactly phrased a question. Steve's face was confirmation enough.

"I don't know where these came from. From what I know he hasn't been bullied before and I'm around him the most. I would notice something that would cause this."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully before walking back to his patient. He ignored the bruises as not to make Tony uncomfortable as the boy clearly didn't want to talk about it, but he did ask if he was feeling pains anywhere else before turning his attention solely on Tony's chest. 

It was only when Steve did, too, that he noticed the big, ugly scar running over the young boy's chest, still red and painful. He and the doctor spoke in hushed tones about it so Steve couldn't hear what they were saying. He retreated into his own thoughts.

Something like this wouldn't be caused by school bullies. Especially the scar on his chest. He remembered the Tony he'd met a few weeks ago; quiet, jumpy, shy-- or was he? Was it shyness... or fear? The way he curled into himself whenever someone's attention was on him or how he wouldn't speak unless spoken to. How he wouldn't ask for help even though he couldn't figure it out on his own.

How he refused to talk about his family and his home life.

Steve felt all the color drain from his face and he felt sick as realization dawned upon him. Tony had never told them why he'd moved out of Italy, especially if he didn't know the language. Which was weird on its own because he'd told them his father was an American. He never talked much about his mom and he barely said a word about his dad. He'd sometimes mention the Jarvis couple and suddenly fall silent. He refused to be handed things. He was constantly scared he'd done something wrong. He was clingy when with the people he trusted and flinched when someone he didn't came too close. How he'd always wear long sleeved, slightly oversized sweaters.

"Steve?"

Steve snapped himself from his raging thoughts by Tony's voice and met his concerned eyes. His sweater was back on and only his cast and black eye stood out. For the rest, he looked as normal as ever.

"Tony..." Steve couldn't say more. Couldn't get the words past his lips. Couldn't bear the possibility that Tony might confirm what he was so scared was the truth. Tony laid a gentle hand on his arm, looking him directly in the eye.

"Steve, I'm okay," he said slowly, intently. His eyes only held honestly and Steve's heart sank.

"No, you're not. The fact that you think you are is exactly what worried me. We're going home now, but we _will _talk about this," Steve insisted, keeping his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. Tony looked down, his hand slipping from Steve's arm.

"Okay," he whispered. Steve took a deep breath, blinked away distant tears and thanked the doctor before marching out, Tony hot on his heels.

* * *

The car ride back was spent with neither of them talking, the silence thick in the small space of the car. Steve had see Peggy a quick text that everything went alright and he was going to stay with Tony in their dorm for the rest of the day. He didn't wait for a reply before driving off.

The walk back to their home was spent in the same silence he could cut with a knife, but Steve didn't feel like breaking it. He felt if he opened his mouth it would all come spilling out and he didn't want that just yet. He unlocked the door, hung up his coat and gestured for Tony to sit down. As Tony made himself small on the corner of the couch, Steve forced himself to take a deep breath, sitting down on the other couch and calming his beating heart.

"Tony." He licked his lips, unsure of how to start. "Tony, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Really honest. If there's questions you don't want to answer then that's fine, but we need to talk about this, okay?" At Tony's nod, he took another deep breath.

"Tony, look at me." He waited until Tony's wide eyes met his before continuing. "I know you never talk about your home situation, and if it's too sensitive a subject I won't force you into talking. But, Tony, I need to know this."

He took another breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Tony, does your dad hit you?"

It was silent for a moment as the question seemed to hang between them. Steve kept his eyes locked on Tony's, desperate to know the truth and yet so scared of the answer. Suddenly, Tony's wide, innocent, intelligent brown eyes flooded with tears and Steve felt his heart break. It was already confirmation enough, but Tony kept his unspoken promise and answered, his voice small and breaking as he spoke.

"Sì."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure about the ending but I really wanted to get something out there. Also, most of this was written on my phone and not beta-read so sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Please, tell me what you thought in the comments, I'd really love to hear what you think!!
> 
> Have a great day or night, take care of yourself, and I'll see you in the next chapter :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not dead, surprise!
> 
> Also, I am not giving up on this fic, don't worry. I've been sick for 2/3 weeks, and now that it's finally vacation I'm still busy, but I decided to give you all this small chapter cuz I really didn't want to leave you hanging. It probably has a lot of mistakes but it's late and I wanna go to bed, so I hope it's not too bad.
> 
> I can't promise regular updates, and since I've been sick for a long time I'm going to have to work really hard when I go back to school, but I'll see what I can do. For now, enjoy this little chapter!

Steve felt frozen. Tony was breaking apart on the other couch, babbling apologies and Italian words Steve didn't understand but he felt numb. He wanted to reach out, wanted to comfort his friend, but he couldn't get himself to move. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. How could someone, _anyone_ hurt someone as sweet and kind as Tony? How could a father beat his own _son_, make him terrified like this? 

It was only when he realized Tony was hyperventilating that he got in action.

He slowly moved over to his friend, exaggerating his movements so Tony wouldn't get startled, speaking softly to him.

"C'mon, buddy. You gotta breathe," he encouraged. Tony shook his head as he gasped, his hand clutching his shirt by his chest.

"I can't," he wheezed, tears streaming down his face. "I can't!"

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" Steve let him know, not wanting him to be scared as he gently reached out and took Tony's shaking hand. He gently put it on his own chest, just over his heart. "Just copy my breathing, okay? Just focus on that."

Tony hesitantly closed his eyes, subconsciously leaning into Steve's warmth as he focused on his breathing until it slowed enough that he could take a full breath. Gently, Steve pulled him into his arms, whispering a constant string of what he hoped were calming words in the boy's ear until his breathing had returned to normal and his tears were reduced to sniffles. Neither pulled away, even as Steve spoke again.

"How long?" Was all he asked. 

"Almost seven month now," Tony whispered. "He took me from Italy, say I am his now."

"Why'd he take you?" Steve asked softly. He felt Tony's hand tighten its hold on his shirt.

"Ana and Jarvis die. I stay behind with mio madre, when she die, too. Padre say I have to live with him now. I no want to. I want back to Italy."

By the time he'd finished, he was back in tears, voice breaking and face hidden in Steve's shirt. Steve closed his eyes, burrowing his face in Tony's soft curls as he held him.

"He gets mad, Steve. He yells, so _loud_. He drinks and he hits and he hurts and I am scared. But he say 'Stark men are made of iron', and that means I can't cry. He gets mad when I do. But I want back to Jarvis and Ana. Madre drink too but she no yells. She no hits and she no hurts. I want back, Steve."

"I know, Tony," Steve told him as if it would make anything better. "I know you do. But we're here now. We're not going to hurt you. We're not going to tell you that you can't cry. What you've been through is horrible. But you're safe here, with us. We'll protect you."

The pure determination and honesty in Steve's voice had Tony relax against him, tears running silently down his face. They stayed like that for a while, both not really sure what to say. Tony had already lost so many people, and he'd ended up in a worse place for it. He was silently glad they'd found each other. Tony was safe here, safe from his father, from the bad memories haunting him, safe with people who genuinely cared about him.

When it seemed like Tony had calmed down, Steve pulled back softly to look him in the eye when he addressed him.

"Hey, Tony?" He called softly. Tony's big, red eyes met his as he sniffled softly. "How about we just watch a movie until the others come home, does that sound okay?" Tony nodded and maneuvered himself over to sit in front of the TV while still somehow keeping his grip on Steve's shirt. They watched Disney movies for the rest of the day until the others came home with a lot of cheerful noise, which died down when they saw Steve and Tony on the couch.

"Hey, Tony," Bruce was the first to speak up, crouching down in front of the younger boy. "How are you doing?" Tony shrugged.

"Good," was his short reply. Bruce turned his questioning gaze to Steve, who confirmed Tony's reply with a short nod.

"He broke his wrist, so he'll have his arm in a cast for the time being," he reported, rubbing his arm up and down Tony's arms soothingly. Tony still remained oddly silent but seemed relaxed as he leaned into Steve's warmth. "I think I'm going to stay home with him for a day, just to make sure he'll be okay. He had a slight head wound, too, and I don't feel comfortable sending him to school tomorrow." Bruce nodded in approval, ruffling Tony's hair affectionately before getting up. The others were standing awkwardly by the doorway, but Bruce whisked them away.

"Let's leave him to rest, now," he told them, and soon it was just Steve and Tony again. They kept watching various Disney movies, although Steve wasn't sure how much attention Tony was paying to them. He didn't seem eager to talk, content to just lay against Steve's side. After what felt like way too long, Tony finally drifted off to the sound of Elsa singing in the background. Steve smiled softly at his sleeping form before shooting Bruce a text to meet him in fifteen minutes with the others. He carefully lifted Tony into his arms, feeling an oddly warm feeling in his stomach when Tony curled up against him.

After tucking his youngest friend in bed, he walked back to the living room, seeing the rest of the group already gathered there. He took a deep breath before taking a seat to face all of them.

"Steve, what really happened?" Nat asked, perceptive as always.

"I don't know how much Tony wants me to tell you, but I feel like you guys shouldn't be kept in the dark about this," he started, feeling the tension rise at his words. "Tony was assaulted in the hallway, although I think you guys know that already. I took him to the hospital, where we made some... disturbing discoveries."

Steve took a deep breath, trying to ground himself before telling the others. They deserved to know, even if Steve would rather do anything other than talk about what he'd just discovered.

"Tony had scars, a lot of them. Bruises, too. They were older, so it couldn't have been from anyone in school." He took another deep breath, his heart beating loudly in his ears. "Guys, Tony's been... _abused_." He choked on the word, tears pooling in his eyes at saying it out loud. His words hung heavily in the air as the others tried to process the news. Bruce was the first one who spoke up, his voice no more than a whisper.

"By his father?" Steve just nodded. He knew Bruce understood, more than any of them. Bruce muttered a shaky "oh, God," under his breath, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked down. Even Natasha, usually so unreadable, had a sad look on her face. She gently rubbed Bruce's arm, knowing this news hit close to home. None of them wanted to see their new friend suffering and the news was hard to take. Surprisingly, Clint stood up first.

"I have to see him," he said hoarsely before walking towards Tony's room. Steve understood. Tony and Clint had grown close in the past few weeks as Tony had him wrapped around his finger within no time with his bright smile and sparkling Bambi eyes, his messy curls and his innocence. Bruce silently followed after the archer, who was kneeling next to Tony's bed, playing idly with his curls. Bruce sat down on the bed, resting a hand on the sleeping boy's knee. Natasha took a seat beside him as Steve remained in the doorway. Bucky came to stand beside him, his hand on his friend's shoulder in silent comfort.

Thor and Loki were still in the living room. Thor gently but firmly held his brother's shoulders, speaking to him softly.

"Brother, you must calm down," he tried. Loki's gaze shot up to meet his brother's.

"Calm down?" He sneered. "_Calm down?_" Thor would've flinched at the tone if it weren't his brother. "Anthony got abused, kept it to himself and was forced to deal with the trauma _alone_, and you want me to _calm down_?!" Loki was yelling now, his breaths heavy with rage, his hands balled into fists.

"I feel your anger, brother. But this is not the way to help Anthony!" Thor tried, keeping his voice as soft as he could. "We must help him now that we know of his suffering. Getting angry will not do him any good, you know that." Loki avoided his gaze, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He knew Thor was right, which was new- usually Loki would be the one to talk his brother down from a rage-, but he was just so _angry_. He'd never felt this kind of rage before. It was tinted with something else- worry? Fear? Concern? All of the above? He couldn't tell. But it was making him see red, unable to think clearly.

"Brother," Thor said, voice soft. "I know how you feel right now, I do. And there is nothing more I want than to punch the bastard of a man who dared touch our friend to the deepest, darkest corner of Helheim, but that is not what Anthony needs. What Anthony needs, brother, are his friends, his new family. People to love him the way his father clearly did not. You _know_ this, brother." Loki's breathing slowed, his fists unclenching. He met his brother's gaze finally, and was surprised at the intensity in his brother's blue eyes.

"_Help him._"

In Tony's bedroom, the friends were quiet. But the arguing from the living room must've reached Tony's ears because he shifted uneasily, opening his eyes widely in a way that made him look young, scared, and vulnerable. In the short period of time he'd been around his new group of friends, he already had them all wrapped around his finger, and it pained them all to see him so uncharacteristically held back, his big, beautiful eyes lacking their usual spark of amazement at the world. Now, he just looked scared.

But Steve and Bucky were standing protectively in the doorway. Clint was softly running his fingers through his hair. Bruce's hand was warm on his knee, a grounding weight. Nat was at his feet, rubbing them warm through the blanket. And soon, Loki was walking into his room, crouching by his bed and looking at him solemnly.

"He will not hurt you here, Anthony," he said. "We will not let him. We shall protect you, and we are here to help you. With everything."

And Tony knew he spoke the truth. His throat felt tight as tears pooled in his eyes, and soon he was pulled into loving arms, warm hands on his back, head, arms, and legs as his friends surrounded him, supporting him and never judging his tears. He fell asleep in their warmth, spreading from his skin to his very bones, warming him on the inside. And he felt things he hadn't in a long time. He felt loved, he felt safe.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face, knowing he was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas y'all!
> 
> I hope you've had a good year and I wish you all the best for the new one! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to make Bruce/Natasha become a little thing on the side, though it's not mentioned too much. Also, some Loki appreciation because I miss him and I think he and Tony deserved more.
> 
> It's a little short but I slept in and basically half of my day was gone so it's a little one for now. Enjoy!

_Strong, cold hands holding his arm. Nails digging into his sensitive skin. Blood falling from his nose and eyebrow. His shirt clinging to his body wetly. His own, ragged breathing loud in his ears. Ribs aching painfully, head throbbing. His father's icy voice sneering at him._

_"Disappointment."_

_"Weak."_

_"No one will ever love you."_

_"You can't do anything right."_

_"Why are you so stupid?"_

When Tony woke he was soaked in sweat, a scream on his lips. His chest heaved, his eyes unseeing as he sat up in bed, his body shaking.

"Tony?" A soft voice spoke in the dark room. "Are you alright?"

That seemed to break the dam. Tony shook his head frantically, sobs ripping from his throat. Slender arms enveloped him in a hug, and Tony sank into whoever was holding him gratefully. He could barely make out a voice above his sobs and mindless pleas but is soothed him nonetheless. Soon, his sobs died down, and he was sniffling softly while fingers ran soothingly through his hair. He could finally make out the voice as well.

"Loki?" He asked softly, voice hoarse. Loki shushed him immediately, hugging him even closer.

"Do not worry, my young friend," he said. "I will keep you safe. Go back to sleep, now."

Tony felt his eyes droop, exhaustion pulling him back under. He barely registered a soft kiss on his messy curls before he drifted off.

Loki smiled sadly as the young boy in his arms quickly relaxed, his breathing evening out. He planted a soft kiss on his head, holding him for a moment longer before laying him back down on the bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin, stroking back the curls on Tony's forehead. When he'd heard the thrashing and soft cries from the other side of the wall, he hadn't hesitated to check up on him. He was glad he did because the boy was sweating, face scrunched up in pain and fear as he made little sounds of distress. Loki didn't consider himself to be a very touchy-feely guy; that was his brother. He didn't insinuate hugs (although he didn't fight his brother on it either), he didn't like the fake smiles supposed 'comforting words'. No, that just wasn't for him. But seeing the boy break down in gut-wrenching sobs had done something to his icy heart.

He figured the boy would forget about it in the morning, and no one had to know.

* * *

Tony didn't forget about it. When he woke up the next morning, sunlight streaming from behind his curtains and feeling relatively well-rested, all things considered, he recalled the events from last night. He smiled softly when he remembered his friends' support, how they didn't do any of the horrible things Tony had believed they would. They stayed with him, even promised to protect him...

And Loki. He remembered waking up from a nightmare he couldn't recall, remembered Loki's arms around him and his soothing voice in his ear. Tony knew he should feel embarrassed for breaking down like that in front of someone he really didn't know that well, but for some reason, he didn't. Loki had been so kind and didn't make it feel like he was weak like his father said. Tony made a mental note to thank him later.

He got up, shuffling towards the door. He didn't expect anyone to be there still, as school had already started. Which is why he was surprised to see Steve, still in his PJ's, standing in the kitchen with two plates on the table behind him. Tony didn't know what he was making but it sure smelled delicious. When Steve noticed Tony's presence, he smiled.

"Good morning, Tony," he greeted him.

"Morning," Tony replied. He came closer, looking in the pan Steve was holding to see what he was making. "What that?"

"These are American Pancakes. Very delicious, very unhealthy."

"Oh," Tony said intelligently. He yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his one good hand.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked gently. Tony shrugged.

"' M good," he said. "Arm's itchy."

Steve laughed at his pout as he rubbed the cast uselessly.

"No funny," Tony grumbled before plopping down on a chair by the table.

"No, of course not," Steve agreed with a smile, serving him a generous amount of pancakes. Tony prodded at the stack with his fork.

"Looks weird," he noted.

"So does Clint."

"True."

Steve showed him how to properly eat the pancakes and soon Tony was taking tentative bites.

"Is good," he praised once he'd finished his first pancake. 

"Thanks," Steve said, positively beaming. "They're a specialty."

Tony didn't manage to eat even half of what Steve had put on his plate before he was full, but Steve had an insane appetite so that wasn't an issue. They cleaned the dishes together before moving to the couch.

"Why you not in school?" Tony asked Steve once they sat down.

"I'm staying here to take care of you," Steve replied. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone."

"But you miss class!" Tony said, eyes wide.

"That's okay," Steve assured him. "I can work from here. I'd really rather miss school than leave you alone when you're sick."

Tony reluctantly accepted that. The rest of the day, Steve made his homework and Tony, who wasn't allowed to do anything school-related, made a Sudoku. Or multiple. Eventually, Tony got bored.

"Steve?" He asked. Steve hummed. "You know what love is?"

Steve looked up.

"Love?" He repeated. Tony nodded.

"Yeah. They say Venice is city of love, but I no knowing what is love. I mean, Jarvis say he love me, and Ana. But that is different. I mean _love_, like... like people kissing on the boats."

Steve put away his work, pulling Tony into his side like he was used to doing now. He thought about it for a long time.

"Love... love is difficult, Tony." He said eventually. "Love comes in many forms. Like the way I love my friends, which is different from the way I love my mother. And I'm pretty sure you've noticed how Bruce loves Natasha a little different from how he loves me or you. Doesn't mean he loves her _more_, just different. You with me so far?" Tony nodded. "And the people on the boats... they love each other very much. Maybe not more than their best friends, but different, like Bruce and Nat."

"How you know you love someone different?" Tony asked.

"Well, you get this really nice feeling whenever you look at them or even think of them," Steve explained with a soft smile. "You feel what they call butterflies in your stomach. It's a funny feeling you get that lets you know you're in love with them. They make you happy, give you a warm feeling. They just make you feel great."

"Can only girls like boys?" Tony asked tentatively. "Because I see people in boats from my window, and I one time see two boys in boats. And they kisses too. And two girls. Can boys love boys, and girls love girls?"

"Oh, Tony, we can't choose who we love," Steve sighed. "A boy can indeed like another boy, so can girls, but it's less common."

"So you say you feel happy, and butterflies?" Tony asked after a little silence.

"Yeah," Steve confirmed. "Most of the time, you can't stop thinking about them."

Tony was silent for a little while before he shifted, looking Steve in the eyes.

"If that is love, then... I love _you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna make this longer but this was a really cruel way to end it so I did :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating for so long, I just got really sick and I had to catch up with a lot of schoolwork so I didn't really have time to write. Don't worry, this story is still active. I'm not sure if I like my writing style in this particular work but excited comments give me motivation :)

_"I love _you,"

Steve was silent for a long time. Slowly, the happy feeling Tony had when he'd discovered what his feelings meant made way for dread, sinking like a brick to settle uncomfortably in his stomach. He'd only seen love between Jarvis and Ana, who loved each other dearly, and the people on the boats. He'd never even considered the fact that his love might not be reciprocated.

"I- I'm sorry," he stuttered after some time, moving to stand up, trying to ignore the lump in his throat and the tears burning behind his eyes. "I no mean that, I- I will go..."

"Wait," Steve said, finally speaking up. "Tony... Please sit down." Tony hesitantly did as he was told, although he sat down a good distance away from Steve. Both of them missed the contact immediately. "Tony..." Steve tried again. "I- I don't know what to say..."

"It's fine, it was joke, really. No have to say no nothing." Tony tried to laugh it off, but Steve saw the tears in his eyes and his rigid posture, making him tremble slightly with the tension.

"No, Tony, please. I want to talk about this." Tony swallowed heavily but sat back down. "Tony," Steve said firmly, trying to meet Tony's eyes, who was stubbornly looking anywhere but at the blonde's blue puppy eyes. "I- I'm flattered that you feel that way about me, I really am. And I love you too, just not in _that_ way. Remember what I explained earlier?"

Tony nodded. "Different love," he said hoarsely.

"Right. Different. Not less, okay?"

"This mean we no friends no more?" Tony asked softly, voice breaking as a single tear managed to break free, sliding down his cheek.

"Oh, Tony," Steve whispered thickly, holding out his arms. Tony immediately thrust himself into his open embrace, clutching his shirt tightly. He squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, trembling with the effort.

"Tony, we'll always be friends, understand?" Steve pressed. "This will change nothing between us, I won't think of you any different because of it, okay?" Tony nodded, wiping away a stubborn tear that had managed to escape.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered once again. Steve shushed him immediately.

"Don't say that, Tony. You have nothing to be sorry for."

* * *

The rest came home just when they were making dinner- or rather, Steve was making dinner and Tony was trying to help out by clumsily cutting vegetables with his one good hand. Everyone dumped themselves on the couches and chairs. Only Natasha and Bucky stopped to notice the fact that Tony wasn't eagerly leaning into Steve's space like he usually did.

When dinner was ready and everyone was seated somewhat around the dinner table (everyone had dinner in this dorm instead of in their own rooms), Tony abandoned his usual spot next to Steve, instead opting to sit down further away.

"Can I sit here?" He asked politely. Loki looked a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless, and Tony sat down with a happy smile. A look of hurt flashed over Steve's face, but it was quickly wiped away as he took his seat. Dinner was as noisy as always, but Steve couldn't help looking at Tony all throughout. Tony didn't even notice, too busy talking animatedly to Loki, his hands flailing about as he talked. Loki seemed happy to listen, although when he said something, Tony laughed. Steve clenched his fists. It should be _him_ making Tony laugh, not Loki.

He froze, blinking hard. He didn't know where that thought had come from. He looked away from Tony and Loki, ignoring Natasha's burning stare. He tried to act as he normally would as they finished dinner, although he couldn't help walking to his room a little faster than usual. He locked the door, flopping down gracelessly on his bed, groaning into his pillow.

He didn't know what to do. Tony had told him he loved him, but Steve was sure he didn't feel the same way. But now Tony probably hated him, even though Steve had told him nothing would change. But Steve didn't want to lose him. He was his friend, even if he didn't reciprocate Tony's love. But he couldn't do anything about that. And now he was going to lose one of his best friends...

A soft knock on his door pulled him out of his musings. He sighed.

"Come in."

"I can't, genius. You locked the door," Nat's voice came from outside.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Steve jumped up, unlocking the door. Nat gave him an unimpressed look, one eyebrow raised. Steve didn't even smile sheepishly, just dropped back into his bed. Natasha frowned.

"Spill," she said, taking place on his bed.

And Steve spilled. He told her how Tony had asked him what love was and how he explained it to him. And he told her how Tony had told him he _loved _him. And, a little embarrassed, he told her how he'd said that he didn't love Tony, not in that way. When he was done, he refused to meet her eyes.

"I let him down, Nat," he whispered softly. "I let him down even though I told him that we would help him with anything. Now I can't help him with this and... and he probably hates me for it."

"You didn't let him down, Steve," Nat said gently. Steve was surprised, he'd expected her to get mad at him. "You can't just make yourself love him, that's just not possible. And Tony's smart, he knows that too. But Steve, Tony doesn't hate you."

"He didn't sit with me at dinner," Steve huffed, knowing he sounded like a petulant child but he couldn't help it.

"He didn't sit with you because he thinks you hate _him. _He just wanted to give you space."

"How would you know?" Steve snapped, not because he was mad at her, but because he refused to hope that Tony didn't actually hate him.

"I talked to him. Something you could've done." Nat replied coolly. She knew where his anger came from. Steve deflated at her words, dropping his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do, Nat," he confessed.

"You talk to him, Steve. You treat him the same. You of all people should know that crushes come and go. Maybe he just likes you because you've been so nice to him. It'll most likely pass given time. But you don't let him deal with it alone, alright?"

Steve nodded, giving himself some time to just breathe.

"Thanks, Nat," he said.

"No problem," Nat winked. "Do us all a favor though; don't make him scared. None of us want to lose him."

With that she got up and slipped out of the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts once again. Steve just stared at his hands for a while, mulling over Natasha's words. She was right, as always. He should talk to Tony, tell him he wasn't mad, nothing would change between them, comfort him-

A silent knock on his door had him frowning.

"Come in," he called. The door creaked open, Tony's head peeking shyly into the room.

"Hi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized shirt and the loose threads from his cast. Steve mutely patted the bed next to him, and Tony quickly crossed the room to sit down. They were silent for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. Tony was tense and silent beside him, so Steve decided he should speak up.

"Tony, look at me," he said softly. Tony's chocolate eyes met his, the boy's shoulders hunched and trying to make himself as small as possible. "I'm not mad at you, Tony. I swear, nothing between us has to change. I wouldn't want this to get in the way of our friendship, Tony. And just because I don't love you in the same way you love me, doesn't mean we can't love each other at all. It's alright if you want to take some time to figure out your feelings, Tony, and I will too. But you can come to me anytime, okay? Promise me you will?"

Tony nodded, looking back down at his hands. Steve pulled him in for a hug, relaxing when he felt Tony lean into him.

"Thank you, Steve," Tony said softly. Steve smiled, pressing a kiss on Tony's soft curls.

"Anytime, Tony. Anytime."

* * *

The weeks that followed were uneventful. Tony went back to school, and although he stayed away from Steve for a little bit, he gradually relaxed back into his presence, making jokes and laughing the way he used to. Steve and Tony were still closest, but Tony had made an unexpected bond with Loki. The two could often be found in the library, reading books of myths and languages Steve didn't even try to figure out. Tony and Peter could also be found together quite often, studying together or just joking around. Of course, he and Bruce could be found in the labs any moment they could. Steve was happy to see Tony bond with so many people, finding his own place in their makeshift family.

Despite this, Tony always seemed a little distant. Sometimes he would zone out and the happy mood he'd had before would be gone within seconds. Sometimes his chatty self would make way for a silence no one seemed to be able to get him out of. At times he stayed in his room and barely even came out at all. Whenever Steve asked if something was wrong, Tony would either get mad (which was something Steve never wanted to see again), or he'd just break down completely. But Steve never managed to figure out what it was. But he didn't want to push, so he decided it was better if Tony came to him with it on his own.

"Guys!" Steve looked up from where he'd been staring a hole into the table while in thought to see Bruce walking in with the biggest smile Steve had seen on him in weeks. Bruce had been having some trouble with his anger issues lately, so Steve was happy to see a smile on the boy's face. "You won't believe what news I've just received."

"What is it?" Tony asked excitedly. An excited mood always seemed to rub off on him.

"So you know I've been struggling with my anger issues lately, and the principal thought it might be smart to bring Hulk over!"

"YES!" Tony shouted excitedly, beaming at Bruce. "That is awesome! Real great! Now, who is Hulk?"

Steve snorted. Bruce was unfazed.

"My dog!" He exclaimed. "He helps with keeping me calm." 

Tony's mouth fell open.

"A _dog_?" He whispered. "I like dogs. Lots. He coming here?"

"Yes, he'll be here tomorrow!"

"Yes! I can pet dog!"

Tony seemed so excited by the mere thought of petting a dog, Steve thought it was actually rather cute. He couldn't help a stupid smile from spreading over his face as he watched Tony light up completely. The way his eyes sparkled and his youthful face completely lit up. Those big, sparkling eyes turned to Steve, and Steve could feel his stomach flip-

He blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head. He smiled back at Tony, pushing down the funny feeling in his stomach. Maybe he'd eaten something wrong today.

Yeah, that was probably it. There was definitely no other reason for his stomach to flip like that whenever Tony smiled. Just bad food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you would like to see in this story, It'd help out me immensely :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is stupid and Nat's a queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this chapter I had no idea what I was planning on writing, and then this happened... Lol I guess it'll do.
> 
> I honestly had no idea where to go with this fic and if I even wanted to continue this at all, but after receiving a lot of comments of people saying they wanted more, I got motivated, so consider this short chapter my thanks to all of you who commented, gave kudos or even just read this story.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Steve seemed to have eaten a _lot _of bad food lately. That weird feeling in his stomach became a daily occurrence, but when he'd gone to the school's nurse, he didn't detect anything wrong. Steve didn't exactly feel sick, either. A voice in the back of his mind taunted him, whispering _"you know exactly what this is__"_ in his ear, but he pushed it away. He didn't know what this was. It would likely pass with time.

The weird feeling usually came whenever he was around Tony. So, in order to make it go away, Steve stayed away from Tony.

"Hey, Steve!" 

Steve kept walking, ignoring Tony's cheerful voice behind him.

"Steve!" The young boy called again. Steve quickened his pace. "Steve?"

Steve felt the boy's small hand on his arm and finally turned around. Tony was beaming at him, although there was a hint of confusion in his eyes.

"You not hear me? I call your name, like three times!" Steve avoided his gaze. "Anyway, you missed history when you go to the nurse, so I make your notes. I have them in my bag!"

"We don't have history right now," Steve grumbled. As he'd predicted, the weird feeling in his stomach was back. He didn't want it there. He didn't want _Tony_ there.

"I know, but I think you wanted to look at them, maybe."

"You _thought_," Steve said before Tony had even finished his sentence. Tony stopped talking, frowning at him.

"What?"

"You _thought_ I wanted to look over the notes. Not you _think_. That's a grammatical error."

"Oh," Tony said softly. "I-I did not know. Sorry."

"I mean, come on. You've been here for what, three months now? Shouldn't you know this stuff by now? It's so simple!" Steve snapped, turning around to face him.

"I- I don't-" Tony stuttered, taking a step back as Steve loomed over him.

"What, you don't know?" Steve mocked. "This is basic stuff, little kids learn this. Are you so dumb you can't even get that?"

Tony flinched back, tears welling in his eyes.

"I-I not dumb," he protested weakly, tears threatening to fall.

"I _am_ not dumb, not _'I not dumb'_. You're just proving my point!" Steve yelled back. Steve flailed his hands, and Tony flinched back, hard. He tripped over his own feet in his haste to get back, falling on the ground. Steve lowered his arms.

"Tony-"

But Tony was hyperventilating, a few tears managing to escape. He quickly scrambled back up, never taking his eyes off of Steve until he was a safe distance away. He turned around and pushed through the small crowd of gaping students, running away as fast as he could. Steve yelled after him, but Tony didn't turn back. As Steve watched him leave, realization dawned. He'd yelled at Tony, he'd called his friend _dumb_. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, tears welling in his eyes.

_What have I done_...

He felt a harsh slap on the back of his head. He turned around to see Nat standing behind him with fury in her eyes.

"You're an _idiot_, Rogers," she growled. Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out. She was right. He was an _idiot_. Nat shook her head at his silence before walking away with large strides to follow Tony, the crowd of kids quickly stepping out of her way as she passed. Steve looked around at the people staring at him in the hallway. He turned and ran towards the nearest bathroom, falling on his knees in an empty stall before breaking down in tears.

* * *

Natasha opened the door to Tony's dorm, knowing that's where he would go. She quietly closed the door behind her and made her way towards Tony's room. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open, expecting to see the young boy on his bed. She didn't expect to see him frantically throw his clothes into his suitcase, furiously wiping away the stubborn tears from his eyes.

"Tony?" She said softly. Tony paused for a second before continuing his packing, ignoring her.

"Tony, please. Stop." She said, her voice still soft. She let a bit of her desperation leak through in her voice. "Steve's being an idiot, he didn't mean what he said."

Tony didn't even pause, zipping his suitcase shut. Natasha grabbed his hand, ignoring the small flinch from Tony. He unconsciously tightened his hand around hers.

"Please, Tony. Can't we talk about this?"

Tony was breathing heavily, a few tears silently making their way down his reddened cheeks. He shook his head, his curls bouncing on his forehead. Natasha sighed softly.

"Look, let's just... sit down, alright?" She said softly, not waiting for an answer as she led the boy to the side of the bed, sitting down next to him. She put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. "I don't know what's gotten into him, but Steve doesn't think you're dumb," she told him, her voice still soft. Tony balled his fists but kept his mouth shut. "Tony please, just talk to me, alright? You know I'm here for you, but I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on in that head of yours." She stroked some of his curls from his forehead.

"I can't." Tony gritted out.

"Why not?" Nat questioned patiently.

"I say it wrong."

That's when Natasha got it. Tony was insecure about his accent and the grammatical errors he made in English. Steve pointing it out to him, calling him _dumb_ for it... He was scared of people judging him. One of the first things Natasha had noticed about Tony was the fact that he did _not_ like to be called dumb.

"Tony, your accent doesn't make you dumb. You haven't been speaking English for too long, things like these take time."

"But people think I'm dumb!" Tony yelled, fresh tears streaming down his face. "I am not dumb. I am _not dumb!_" 

Natasha pulled him close to her as he sobbed, repeating _'I am not dumb'_ under his breath as he clung to her. She gently rocked him back and forth as he cried, stroking his back and gently playing with his curls.

"Shh, I know. I know, Tony. You're not dumb," she said, repeating it quietly in his ear until he calmed down.

Nat never let herself be... _motherly_ like this. She was always emotionless. She didn't like physical contact, let alone engage in it. But Tony... Tony had come bouncing into her life with his bright smile and vast energy and curiosity and _innocence_. She didn't want him to end up like her, closed off from the people around him, never letting others know how he was feeling. She didn't want to crush that innocence and in doing so, she realized hers hadn't been crushed yet, either. So as she held her young friend close, she let her maternal instincts kick in, and didn't hold them back. Tony didn't deserve that and frankly, neither did she.

When Tony's sobs died down to hiccups, she gently pulled back. She wiped away the tears on Tony's cheeks, holding his face gently in her hands.

"Why do you hate it so much?" She asked. "When people call you dumb. Why do you hate it? You're the smartest person I've ever met. Why are you still so bothered by that lie?"

Tony avoided her gaze, wiping his eyes as he hiccuped softly.

"Howard- my dad say he-he throw me out if I not smart," he whispered. "He say my brain is only reason he keep me around."

A single tear slipped from his eye, but Nat was quick to wipe it away. 

"Tony, you're a genius. You are," she pressed when Tony seemed ready to protest. He sniffed, leaning against her with a soft hiccup. "You're more to us than just your brains, Tony. We love your energy, your curiosity, your big eyes and even bigger smile. We love everything about you, Tony. Your genius is only a part of that. You're more than that, Tony. And we love all of it."

Tony looked at her, his puffy eyes wide.

"Really?" He whispered.

"Really," she said confidently, giving him one of her rare smiles. He gave a timid one back.

"Thank you," he said softly. 

"You're welcome, Tony. And when Steve gets back, he's gonna hear from me."

Tony giggled softly at her dark look and she playfully booped him on the nose, eliciting another giggle.

"You know what, I think Hulk could use a potty break. Mind taking him out for a bit?"

"But school?" Tony questioned. Nat waved away his worry.

"I'll call you in sick. It's not like you'll miss much, aren't you ahead at pretty much every subject?"

Tony blushed and muttered something under his breath before getting up to wash his face. But Natasha had one more question left.

"Tony?" She called.

"Hm?" Came the reply.

"Where were you planning on going?"

Tony emerged from the bathroom with a clean face, though his eyes were still slightly puffy.

"Oh, I- uh, I was gonna go to friend," he said, fidgeting with his hands as he blushed. "I am not leaving anymore. Sorry, was stupid idea."

"'That's okay. Say, this friend of yours, does he live here in America?"

Tony nodded enthusiastically. "Sì, he live not far. I still no know how I thinks to get there though," he said, frowning a bit. He called Hulk over, who entered the room with his leash already in his mouth, his tail wagging. The boy and the big dog had bonded immediately after meeting and Hulk loved to walk with Tony.

"You wouldn't happen to give me his name, by any chance?" She questioned. As far as she knew, Tony didn't have any friends besides them in America. Tony clicked Hulk's leash on his collar, petting his head as he made towards the door.

"Oh, his name is Rhodey."

With that, he was out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of this chapter and what you want to see moving forward. If you want, you can find me on [Tumblr](https://demarvelbunny.tumblr.com) or on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/de_marvel_bunny/)
> 
> Stay safe!


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